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“A what, now?” I asked, glaring at my sister as she glared at Avery.

  “Therion.” He gave me an odd look. “Someone who can change their shape at will to that of an animal.”

  “Is there such a thing as a non-therion?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Other than the obvious, I mean?”

  “Someone who shifts but isn’t in control of it?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Yes. Weres.”

  “Whats?”

  “No, weres.”

  “If you say who’s on first, I’m going to deck you,” my sister told me with a warning glint in her eye.

  I smiled at her. “I think he means weres as in were-wolves.”

  “Werewolves are a fallacy,” Avery said, gesturing toward the door. “Mortal lore says they can shift back to human form, but true weres can’t. May we leave? I have an old man to gullet.”

  “Sure. But . . . is the sunlight thing a fallacy, too?”

  “Sunlight? Oh—only somewhat. Moravians can go out in the sun if we have protection against prolonged exposure. Hence the jacket and hat.”

  “Gotcha. Just let me check to make sure the coast is clear.” I opened the door a few inches and peered out. Five pairs of eyes turned en masse to look back at me. “Um. Hi. Er . . .” I opened the door more fully. “Sorry to keep you all waiting so long.”

  “Is everything all right?” Allison asked as Jo craned her head to look beyond me into the darkened hallway. “We were beginning to get worried. Is the cat injured badly?”

  “No, not at all. He’s fine, in . . . er . . . remarkably good shape. It took me a while to examine him, and then of course, I wanted to speak to his owner when he came to pick up the cat.”

  “His owner?” The five ladies wore identical expressions of surprise as I stepped out, followed by Cora and Avery.

  “This is Avery Scott. He . . . er . . . owns the cat who was left by mistake at your shelter. Evidently the cat was ill and Avery asked someone to take it to a specialist vet while he was off on a business trip, and it was brought here instead,” I said quickly, trotting out the admittedly weak story we had hurriedly concocted.

  The five pairs of eyes turned to look at Avery, standing in the shadow of the building. He smiled. “I’m so sorry for any trouble that my extremely handsome panther—”

  “Jaguar.”

  “Might have caused you ladies, but I assure you that you will not be forced to endure such inconvenience again.”

  “But . . .” Allison faltered, and looked helplessly at Jo.

  “Where’s he gone?” Jo asked in her usual blunt manner. “We didn’t see anyone.”

  “Gone? The cat?” I glanced at Avery. We were so rushed that we had forgotten to come up with an explanation of to where exactly the cat had been spirited away.

  “My friend picked him up at the front door,” Avery said without batting so much as an eyelash. “I have a special car for him. The cat, not the friend.”

  “We didn’t hear anyone pull up front, either,” Jo said, her brows pulling together as she eyed Avery.

  I moved in front of him to block her view, lest she recognize the vet’s spare clothes. “It was one of those new hybrid cars, very quiet. All’s clear in your shelter now, though, so you can feel free to go inside and take care of all those hungry kitties. Avery, I’ll give you a lift since your friend took your car away.”

  “That was the lamest, most unbelievable story I’ve ever heard,” Cora grumbled as we hurried toward the truck. “A friend came to pick up the cat in a hybrid car! Honestly, Jas, couldn’t you have thought of something a little more realistic?”

  “Shush, they’ll hear you,” I warned, glancing back. The three workers had gone inside. Jo stood at the door, holding it for Allison, who was watching us, an odd expression on her face. As Avery and Cora slid into the truck, she smiled, and I could have sworn winked at me.

  “So here we are, trapped in a small truck with a man-eating vampire therion jaguar,” Cora said, digging her elbow into me as she made herself comfortable.

  “Actually, I prefer women as my dinner companions, and do I sense a subtle hostility regarding my origins?” Avery asked politely, pulling down the visor and angling it toward the side of the window where the morning sun was spilling sunlight into the truck.

  “You do, you murderous fiend. It was a vampire who bit the lady who decapitated me with her ox cart. The same vampire who lives next door to my best friend, except now she can’t remember anything because he did some weird brain thing to her, so she won’t believe me when I tell her what happened that night, and what’s more, she refuses to move. Luckily, she has retained enough wits to also refuse to give him my name and address, so he can’t hunt me down and kill me as he did the ox lady.”

  Avery’s expression of disbelief was priceless. He transferred his gaze of stark confusion from Cora to me. “Your sister was decapitated?”

  “It was a past-life regression,” I said, waving at Jo as she and Allison entered the shelter. “I assume we can drop you off somewhere?”

  He named a rural mountain town about half an hour away. “Since I seem to be without a vehicle, hybrid or otherwise, I would appreciate a ride.”

  “No problem,” I said, pulling out onto the highway. “So, how is it that a Scottish vampire is in the Pacific Northwest?”

  “Will you stop that?” Cora demanded, pinching my wrist.

  “Stop what?” I asked, surprised once again by her rudeness.

  “You’re chitchatting with him!”

  “So?”

  “He’s a vampire! He just wants one thing from you.”

  “Brains?” I asked, feeling my lips twitch with the effort not to smile.

  Avery’s lips, I couldn’t help but notice from a glance that way, did the same.

  “No, you idiot, that’s zombies.”

  “Blood, then. Do you want to drink my blood, Avery?” I asked over her head.

  “I’m not particularly hungry at this moment, but if you were offering, I certainly wouldn’t turn you down,” he said with a devilish twinkle in those clear blue eyes.

  Warning sirens went off in my brain, but I ignored them. Oh, I could tell he was a ladies’ man, that he was quite comfortable with who he was, and that he could probably charm the spots off a cheetah, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate him for the eye candy he was.

  “Your pants,” Cora announced, nodding when both Avery and I glanced at her in surprise. “That’s what he wants. Or rather, that’s what he wants to get into. Don’t look at me like that, Jas—I’ve read all sorts of vampire books, and they all have one thing in common.”

  “Sparkles?”

  She shot me a look of scorn. “No. Vampires are always oversexed stud muffins who just want to get into women’s pants. And the way this one was sucking your face, it’s obvious he wants into yours. If I hadn’t come along when I did, he probably would have been boinking you in the hallway of the cat shelter.”

  We stopped at a red light, giving me an opportunity to assess Avery. “Would you have boinked me in the hallway?”

  “No,” he said, his lips curving into a slow, sensuous smile that suddenly had me warm all over.

  “I think you owe Avery an apology,” I told my sister, clearing my throat and wondering if anyone would notice if I turned on the air-conditioning.

  She pursed her lips at him and waited.

  His smile changed into a grin. “The floor in the hallway was too cold, Jacintha. Now, the room beyond had a lovely rug. I would have boinked you there.”

  I couldn’t help myself; I laughed, Avery joining in with me. Only Cora didn’t see the humor, muttering darkly to herself as we drove.

  “You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I reminded Avery.

  “I did.
I meant it, too. That rug in the other room—”

  “The question of why you’re here in the first place,” I interrupted, wondering for just a moment if he really was serious.

  Quite serious.

  I almost ran the truck into the side of a small bait and ammo shop at the sound of his voice in my head. The truck fishtailed on the thankfully empty gravel parking area as I slammed on the brakes, bringing us to a shuddering halt.

  “What the hell?” Cora asked as I turned a shocked face at Avery. His eyes were wide with surprise, as well.

  “You talked to me!”

  “Yes.”

  “In my head, you talked to me like you did when you were a jaguar. But you’re not a cat now. The cat whispering was one thing, but this—this is different.”

  “I know.” His expression froze for a moment. “You can’t be.”

  “I can’t be what?” I asked, confused and jittery from the blast of adrenaline that roared through me when we spun into the parking lot. Shakily, I turned off the engine, feeling I needed a couple of minutes to gather my wits again.

  “A Beloved?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re coming on to my sister, aren’t you?” Cora demanded, giving him a dirty look.

  “No, I’m not,” he answered in an abstracted tone, his gaze flicking over me as if he were making an inventory of my person. “The word Beloved to a Dark One has a different meaning than the term of affection, although it is based on that. It is a term we use for a soul mate, the one woman who can redeem a Dark One’s soul, returning it to him.”

  “And to think when I woke up this morning I figured it was going to be just another mundane Friday, the kind that doesn’t involve shape-shifting vampires who don’t have souls. Wait a second—you told me at the shelter you had your soul. Is this Beloved thing what you were talking about?”

  “Yes.” He continued to look thoughtfully at me. “And I do have my soul—I don’t need it redeemed, but I seem to have marked you.”

  Cora snorted indignantly.

  “I beg your pardon!” I was somewhat outraged at the idea of this marking. Why, I didn’t quite know, since it was obvious he hadn’t harmed me in any way.

  “In this case, the marking is the ability to speak directly to each other without using words,” he explained, a slight frown pulling his dark blond brows together.

  “Which means, what? That I’m this soul-redeemer you don’t need?”

  “Why not?” he said, shrugging, as if he had been arguing with himself. “Other Moravians have them. Why shouldn’t I? It’s just that I didn’t expect it.” His slow smile caused my stomach to tighten as he reached across Cora and pulled me toward him. “Kiss me.”

  “What?”

  “Hey!” Cora objected as she was smashed into the back of the seat. “Get off me, you bloodthirsty ghoul!”

  “Kiss me. Suck my tongue,” Avery demanded, trying to haul me across Cora. The seat belt wouldn’t allow him to do more than cause my back to wrench painfully.

  “Oh my God, I knew it! He’s trying to get into your pants, right here in front of me!” Cora shrieked, slapping at his arms.

  “Be quiet, woman!” Avery thundered, impatiently unhooking his seat belt, then doing the same for Cora. Before she could do more than squawk, he hoisted her onto his lap.

  “If you think copping a grope on my sister is going to encourage me to French kiss you, you need to think again,” I told him sternly. “I do not share my men.”

  He rolled his eyes, scooted over to where Cora had been sitting, then summarily dumped her into his spot, next to the passenger door. “Kiss me. It’s the third step.”

  “Third step of what?”

  “Joining. Kiss me, damn it!”

  “Why?” I asked, suspicious all of a sudden, although more than a little overwhelmed with both his demands, and the sudden nearness of him, pressed up next to me, all hard lines and muscles and body heat that made me feel very feminine, even in my work uniform.

  “Confirmation,” he said, a moment before his lips descended on mine.

  “Where the hell is a fire extinguisher when you need one?” I heard Cora yell, but dimly, as if she were at a distance away. Every ounce of my attention was focused on Avery: Avery and his tongue, Avery and the hard, warm chest I was pulled up against, Avery and the little tremors of heat that seemed to come from his fingers as they stroked the back of my neck. But most of all, I focused on the strange presence in my mind that I recognized as being him. I was flooded with all sorts of emotions that weren’t mine, everything from arousal (which I was somewhat disconcerted to realize matched my own), to surprise, to a deep, burning hunger that burst into being with a strength that rocked me.

  But it was his pleasure in tasting me that amazed me and heightened the enjoyment I was feeling. It was as if our individual emotions were feeding each other, ping-ponging back and forth in a spiraling twist of arousal, need, and unadulterated sensuality.

  I thought you said you weren’t hungry.

  I wasn’t then. I am now.

  So you are . . . Hey! That’s not hunger, I answered, my mind filled with the most erotic thoughts it had ever been my (extreme) pleasure to entertain. Good Lord, man, that last one has to be illegal.

  It isn’t. But it should be, he said with languid sensuality.

  I squirmed and moaned into his mouth as one of his hands continued to stroke the back of my neck, a suddenly highly erogenous zone, while the other slid down my arm to my rib cage, his fingers spreading to cup my left breast.

  This is unbelievable.

  I know. I had no idea this is what men felt when they kissed me. What happens if I do this?

  I laid my hand on his thigh, gently kneading the heavy muscles. A jolt of electricity shot through him, pushing his arousal—and subsequently mine—to new peaks.

  Dear God, don’t do that, he groaned in my mind. I moved my hand off his leg, pausing when he asked, What are you doing?

  Moving my hand. You asked me to.

  Don’t listen to me! I’m clearly too caught up in amazement to know what I’m saying.

  I didn’t know it was possible to laugh in someone’s head, but that was what I did as I replaced my hand on his thigh, massaging the muscle there as he thoroughly examined every part of my mouth. I’m caught up in amazement as well. You really do know how to kiss.

  That’s not what I meant—oh, hell, I’ll just have to show you. Do you mind feeding me?

  I was turning that thought over in my mind, weighing the building desire that was claiming his sole attention with my own reticence to become someone’s snack, when his mouth moved off mine, and he said something in a language I didn’t understand, his lips burning a path down my chin, to my neck.

  This is a bit cliché, but I doubt if you would appreciate my doing it anywhere else in front of your sister. . . . His words were still echoing in my head when a sharp, hot pain flared to life and was instantly gone, replaced by the most incredible sensation I’d ever felt.

  Oh my God, you’re doing it, aren’t you? You’re drinking my blood!

  He moaned into my brain again. Christ, yes.

  I was simultaneously shocked and thrilled. That he was feeding off me was a concept that should have been repugnant, but it was so far from that, my head spun. This is wild! I can feel you drinking it. I can feel it sliding down your throat. I can feel . . . oh, my. You, too, huh?

  I just wanted to see if it was true.

  If what was true? I asked.

  He ignored my question, his arousal and mine so tangled together, I knew we were both close to burning up with desire. We have to stop. If I go on . . .

  Yeah, I know. I’m really close, as well. Avery, don’t.

  Don’t?

  Don’t stop. . . .

/>   Just as I was about to throw self-control to the wind and rip off his clothes to have my carnal way with him, a familiar noise pierced the dense cloud of sex that seemed to hold us in its velvet grip. It was a sharp noise, one that tickled the fringes of my awareness, reminding me of something. I was just about to examine it closer when Avery stiffened in my arms and pulled his mouth off my neck. I caught a flash of his startled blue eyes before they rolled up and he fell forward across my lap, smacking his forehead loudly on the window.

  Cora sat at the other side of the truck, my tranquilizing gun still leveled at Avery, a smile on her lips.

  “Got him,” she said with grim satisfaction, her gaze rising to meet mine. “No evil undead bloodsucker makes my sister dinner!”

  “Oh, Cora,” I said, my entire body quivering on the edge of an orgasm. “You have the worst timing of anyone I know.”

  Chapter 4

  “So now what do we do?” Cora asked, prodding the bed with the toe of her boot. “How long is Vlad going to stay that way?”

  “I don’t know, and most likely about four hours.” I frowned down at the man who lay on the bed of the cheap motel just outside the town to which Avery had asked to be taken. “I’m not sure because I’ve never used the tranquilizer on a person. And you shouldn’t have—it’s dangerous, since the dose for animals is much different than for people. You might have killed him.”

  “Yeah, right. He’s the evil undead, remember?”

  “Oh, he is not,” I snapped, tired of the way Cora constantly harped on the fact that Avery just happened to be a vampire—one that could turn into a melanistic jaguar.

  Dear God, what had I gotten myself involved in?

  “You’ve fallen for all that Beloved talk, haven’t you? Don’t deny it—I can tell you have.”

  “I haven’t done any such thing,” I objected.

  “I know you, Jas. You’re the most romantic person I know, constantly watching those sappy old romance movies, mooning about wishing you had some guy from the cover of a romance novel, and waiting for a dashing knight to roll up on a white horse and whisk you away.”

  “You are being obnoxiously rude. Just because you don’t have an ounce of romance in your soul doesn’t mean I’m some sap waiting for a man to complete her life. I do just fine on my own, thank you.”